


Anders Ficlet Collection

by AlmostCanon



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Selective Mutism:, anders collection, handers - Freeform, nanders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:51:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3265625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmostCanon/pseuds/AlmostCanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of very short Anders ficlets. Mostly fluff with a shot of angst ranging from Nathaniel to Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anders Ficlet Collection

**No Time To Shave:**  
It was hard to shave when you were constantly on the move. Plus, a beard made him look older, made it easier to hide who he was. Of course, the downside was that all the hiking across Thedas lead to twigs and leaves getting stuck in the blonde facial hairs. 

“Maker’s breath, Anders,” Hawke said. “We have a home. You don’t have to go all hobo chic when we travel.”

“Huh?” Anders ran a hand over his beard and a leaf fell out, floating gracefully towards the ground. “Oh.” He glanced back up to Hawke and shrugged. “I don’t mind so much. What matters to me is that all the rebel mages are feed, and not worried about their wounds.”

Hawke smiled and moved closer to pull the twigs out of his beard. “Once,” Anders continued, speaking softly since they were so close. “I found a bit of elfroot in my beard when I needed to make a potion.”

Hawke paused, and looked up to meet Anders’ amused expression. They weren’t sure if that story was true or not. In the end Hawke shook their head at his silliness. “If you insist..,” Hawke said and moved away. Anders raised a brow as they moved to a patch of grass. They plucked something and returned. Hawke carefully placed the stem of a flower into his beard. “Might was well add some color too.”

Anders laughed and kissed Hawke. “Thanks for the help, love.”

 **Selective Mutism:**  
Everyone coped with living in the circle their own way. Some people devoted themselves to studies, believing if they studied hard enough they’d be safe. Some people found comfort and joy in each other. Touching when no one was looking, kissing in corners of the tower the Templars didn’t watch. But, when things got really bad Anders didn’t give anything to anyone. Not even his voice. They’d be weeks, even months where he’d wouldn’t say a word. He’d wrap a protective arm around a crying friend, and glare at the Templar who scared her. But for protection, for a sense of safety and control he stayed silent in sadness, and prayer.

Years later that silence was replaced with snark and escape attempts. The templars would find him angry and with a biting tongue. He joined the Wardens and commented on desire to have someone and to throw fireballs at fools.

Anders didn’t truly find his voice until Kirkwall. Some called him crazy, over-zealous, they’d make jokes about him going on and on about mage rights. But, it didn’t matter he’d found his voice and he was never going to silence himself again.

 **Feather Collector:**  
Any ol’ feather won’t do. An odd combination of textures and colors just doesn’t suit him. Anders allows himself so few luxuries, but the feathers from a merchant in Hightown is the place to go for replacements when his coat is looking a little bare. He found the place on accident once, but quickly became their number one buyer. He isn’t even sure what animal the feathers are from, but the merchant assures him that they were humanely picked. “I’d have it no other way,” she added with a wave of her hand. Ander runs his fingers over a loose collection of feathers and smiles to himself. They remind him of a feather he once pulled from his mothers pillow. 

**Call Me**  
"The Deep Roads are the worst," Anders growled. 

"Yes," Nathaniel said with a dry tone. "You’ve said that. Like six times." 

Anders turned to Nathaniel with a wide grin. The Wardens recently all got new and matching armor so the view was an extra bonus. Blue looked good on the man. “And, if I said it a dozen times it would still be true.”

Being a Warden meant you unfairly got the Deep Roads shifts. Make sure everyone is safe from at camp while you have to crawl around the sodding blighted caves all day. Ser Pounce-A-Lot would hear of this when they got back, Anders would make sure of that.  
Distractedly, Anders slipped. His foot misjudged a rock that gave way and slid down to a lower path.

"Anders!" Nathaniel judged the distance between them for hesitant filled seconds. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah.." Anders voice seemed to echo up and didn’t make any indication that he was going to bounce back up. His hand hovered over his ankle but Nathaniel couldn’t tell what was going on from above.

Carefully, Nathaniel slid down the make-shift shortcut that Anders inadvertently created. He kicked up rocks and landed with a short little run. 

"How are you doing? Are you alright?" Nathaniel bent down near Anders, he didn’t know how he was going to help. Anders was the healer of the group, what could he do right now? 

Anders looked up and grinned. "I’m fine. Howe are you?” 

Nathaniel swatted the back of Anders’ head. Light enough not to hurt, but hard enough that it flipped up his ponytail for a moment. He offered a hand, and with a pull Anders was up on his feet again. 

But instead of backing off, Anders didn’t flinch. They were standing close, comfortingly close like that one time before. It took Nathaniel moment to first realize this, then another to be bashful enough about it to drop Anders hand and take a step back.  
"We— should get back." Nathaniel said and cleared his throat.

There wasn’t the best light down here, but even still he could see the deepening blush on the fellow Warden’s face. Anders didn’t push when Nathaniel pulled away. He never did. It was enough to just be by Nathaniel, even if it was in the Deep Roads. 

**In The Sun**  
Dark town was aptly named. His clinic might have been a sanctum of healing and salvation, but it had not been one of light. Hawke’s estate had been better, but Anders preferred taking shadowed paths to it.

Things had changed though. After Kirkwall, mages he considered his betters did something. They found their voice, and cast a their votes. Freedom had a cost, but it was one he had always been willing to pay.

Anders tilted his chin up and closes his eyes to the warm sun on his cheeks. He was free. More so than he had ever been. And day by day more mages would have their own day in the sun.

 **Safe and Sound**  
Butterfly kisses are planted and foreheads are pressed together during the times where Anders can’t find it in himself to like himself. Space is given when Anders needs room to breathe, but never so much that he starts to feel alone. Some nights its cold and they pile together on the bed, Hawke, dog, and all. Fingers are laced together and Hawke whispers that any quest done with him makes it worthwhile. Anders isn’t perfect, but such impossible things are never asked. When he struggles with how the world sees him, Hawke mentions that they believe in him more each time they fight. That to err is to be human, that to fight is to be alive, and while to be loved might not mean you’ll be safe and sound, its a promise.

 **First Touch**  
The first time happened by accident during watch one night. The fire was getting dim so in their boredom they both reached for a piece of wood at the same time. Nathaniel’s hand at been first, and Anders’ ended up on top of it. He stared at their hands for a fraction, before he found himself curling his fingers around his fellow Warden’s. 

Nathaniel’s eyes went as wide as the full moon. Finally he turned to look at Anders beside him, who sheepishly gave an encouraging smile. Truth be known the whole thing made him jittery too, if Nathaniel had pulled his hand away the mix would have likely been covered by some sarcastic joke.

But he hadn’t. 

A twig snapped and Nathaniel ripped his hand back, tucking them close to his chest. Anders stole a look behind them. He didn’t see anything, but maybe someone in camp stirred in their sleep. Instead he turned back and placed more wood on the fire in order to hid his blush within the flickering oranges and reds of the fire’s glow.


End file.
